


Slick With Tears

by Shut_Up_Marius



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Avocados at Law, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Foggy Nelson: Chill Bro Dom, Idiots in Love, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Matt Murdock's Sex Tears, Sensual Play, matt murdock: come early and often
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4483235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shut_Up_Marius/pseuds/Shut_Up_Marius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy discovers a kink of his by accident. Except is it really a kink if he only wants it with one person?<br/>Will he ever have the opportunity to make Matt Murdock cry for him? Such pretty, pretty tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing BDSM, I hope it's satisfactory.  
> It's also my first time writing for this fandom.
> 
> This fic is for my friend Jenn, if she happens to stumble upon this.

Foggy's exhausted. That study session kicked his ass so hard he almost took a wrong turn to get back to his dorm. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep. Still, he tries his hardest to be quiet when he cracks the door open and notices the lights are off. Not that Matt needs light to work, but it's a little over 1AM so it's entirely possible his best friend is already asleep.

Indeed, thanks to the yellow lamplight that's trickling through their window, he spies the familiar lump of his roommate buried under his bedsheets, his mop of dark hair the only thing he can see. He grins : he's glad Matt is getting some rest ; the guy puts Foggy's workaholic tendencies to shame. 

He toes off his shoes and takes off his clothes swiftly, resisting the urge to just throw himself face first onto his pillow. Besides, his flannel pyjama bottoms are comfortable and he deserves to treat himself after studying three hours with unmotivated students. That's why he also puts on the rattiest tshirt he owns. It's more holes than shirt at this point, really, and yet he can't bring himself to throw it away.

Foggy slips beneath the covers, finds a satisfying position and... he won't fall asleep. He stares at the darkened ceiling for a while, then forcefully shuts his eyes. No luck. He tries the breathing exercises his hippy of a roommate insists help. They don't. All the stupid things his fellow students said tonight are still running through his head. He tries relaxing his limbs one by one and... yes, that seems to be working. Fucking finally, though, he must have been lying awake for forty-five minutes now, but he can't think about that otherwise the frustration is bound to keep him up even longer.

But just as he's starting to slip under, his ears pick up on something unusual. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on. He recognises the rhythmic, slick noise and feels his face heat up in the darkness.

Okay, so Matt's jerking off. A few feet away from Foggy. That's alright, that stuff happens to roommates around the world all the time. He just has to tune him out, or something. Except he can't.

Matthew Dreamboat Murdock is jerking off practically next to him. Foggy doesn't have to concentrate very hard to hear the quiet gasps Matt's trying to suppress, the way he swallows when his breath catches. Matt must think Foggy's asleep to allow himself to be this noisy. Or too far gone to care. The thought of Matt lost in the throes of passion is enough to make Foggy's cock twitch.

He bets his crush on Matt will be even more hard-pressed to dissipate now that he's been privvy to this special moment. Matt was already handsome, cute, goofy and so brilliant it was a bit intimidating, but now he's also sexy as hell, and it's a good thing the guy is blind, Foggy thinks with a wince, so he doesn't have to see him blush scarlet when he looks at him.

God, had Matt been getting frisky before he'd come in earlier ? Had he waited all this time for Foggy to fall asleep so he could pick up where he'd left ? His own cock is now heavy and pulsing against his thigh. He should probably find this gross or weird or uncomfortable, but Foggy's honest with himself : this is the most erotic moment of his life.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Matt bend a leg and plant his foot in the mattress. It takes all of Foggy's self-control not to whine when his best friend starts giving shallow little thrusts into the fist he's got wrapped around his dick, making the best of the leverage. It's most likely pole vaulting across the friend border but he wishes the sheet would slip down so he could witness the absolute marvel that must be Matt's body right now.

He's seen Matt shirtless, and he saw him in a suit that one time, so he knows the bastard exercises and has way too good a body for a guy who's supposed to be the bookish type.

It gets worse when Matt lets an involuntary groan slip. Foggy's in HELL. Yes, this is hot, but also a little wrong because he kind of fancies Matt so he should not be getting off on him wanking. He's a terrible human being for even thinking about Matt's hands, about the tips of his fingers callused from reading Braille gripping the hot flesh between his legs, his thumb smearing precum over the head.

Foggy is about to give in and discreetly slide a hand into his pyjamas when he hears Matt choke on a sob. He freezes, his hand in mid-air under his waistband, eyes wide. Is something wrong ? The next couple of seconds pass but the movement beneath Matt's sheet doesn't stop. It speeds up if anything.

But Matt is definitely crying. The tell-tale catch of the minute sobs in his breath are pretty obvious. And Foggy's still not weirded out, only more turned on if such a thing is even possible. The part of his brain that's not reflecting on how pervy he's being finishes guiding his hand to his dick and man, he thinks as he tries to control the harsh exhale that whooshes out of him at the first contact, being a perv feels fantastic.

Foggy is officially jerking off over his roommate crying from pleasure in the bed opposite his. He's got to keep quiet. Not for Matt's benefit, really, the guy's so into it he stopped being subtle five minutes ago, but he doesn't want to miss the sounds he's making. Foggy eventually shifts his head on his pillow so he can look at Matt. It's the best and worse decision he's ever made (alright, along with that time when he was ten and jumped off the apple tree in his aunt's backyard, that was stupid) : Matt's head is thrown back, exposing the arch of his throat, and his mouth, so obscene, so red, is parted as he pants out his tears. The sheets have slipped down a little, just enough for Foggy to see his roommate's pectorals and his free hand fisting the covers, his entire body getting progressively more taut. 

Foggy's rhythm on his own dick is the perfect opposite of Matt's feverish one. Foggy's running his palm along the shaft, occasionally using the heel to rub circles on the head or the tips of his fingers to press behind his balls, gently squeezing them on the way back up. The blood pounding at his temples makes it almost impossible to hear Matt's delightful noises. Foggy can see the glistening track a tear left in its wake at the corner of Matt's eye thanks to the light coming in through the window, and he's never going to complain about getting the shittiest room ever again.

Then Matt's biting his lower lip, arching off the bed with a sob, and it's all it takes for Foggy to come in his pyjamas, his orgasm slamming into him as Matt keeps on crying, his own climax subsiding. By the time the little sobs have been reduced to quiet panting, Foggy's afterglow has already faded and he's left a bit confused over his freshly discovered kinks.

He regrets nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Foggy gets to show his chill bro dom side and finally see Matt's sex tears from up close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a mysoginistic slur towards this end.
> 
> A HUGE thank you goes to @jk_rockin for helping, amongst other things, with my hatred of commas and my over-enthusiastic use of semicolons.

Foggy never catches his best friend masturbating again. Often, when he's going at it himself, he thinks about Matt sobbing from a pleasure so intense it overwhelms him. Those are his strongest orgasms.

Foggy explores the side of him he discovered thanks to Matt that night, his voyeuristic tendencies and the tiny sadistic streak Matt's tears revealed. Unfortunately, he also learns that, no matter how fine his partners, none of them completely do it for him. Matt's always at the back of his mind.

He'd have thought that this silly crush on his best friend would have puttered out and died by now. They're both adults, associates. Who carries a torch for years for someone who will forever see you as their best friend ? The worst thing is that Foggy's an optimist at heart ; he keeps on hallucinating lingering touches, overanalysing gestures, imagining special smiles. He's hopeless, really.

So Foggy floats in the painful yet acceptable realm that is unrequited love until that terrible night when all of Matt's secrets tumble out. The newfound knowledge makes Foggy's head spin and he feels nauseous the entire time Matt tries to explain himself. His heartbroken tears aren't as sexy. Foggy leaves and does his own crying in private. Mostly.

So many things run through Foggy's head, it's a miracle he doesn't explode. The heartbeat thing. It means Matt knows, right ? He has to know : he still feels like he's having a heart attack whenever Matt laughs at one of his jokes, head thrown back in mirth, little wrinkles visible behind his sunglasses. There's no hiding the way his heart stutters when a hug comes unexpected. For the millionth time, he wishes he weren't such a sap for his best friend.

Are they still best friends ? Can he forgive or look past that kind of betrayal ? Matt hid such an important part of his life from him, and for years ! And yet, goddammit, Foggy already knows he'll forgive him. Like he could live without Matt – that beautiful, misguided, murderous, ludicrous man. 

No, forgiving Matt about the Daredevil thing isn't the hardest part, although it certainly should be. The hardest part is knowing he'll have to look into that beautiful face and talk about his feelings. Because how hypocritical would it be to lecture Matt on keeping secrets from him when, all along, he'd been doing the same ? Granted, Foggy's secret would never get him killed, but still. 

For a few days, Foggy keeps to himself. He broods and drinks a lot. He's allowed that much. He reviews a decade of friendship, taking the Daredevil thing into account. Some of Matt's strange behaviour makes more sense now : how he always knew what part of the library had free chairs, how he could smell where Foggy hid his strawberry lollipops. He also goes over his history of pining, trying to find the times he must have been obvious to Matt, and groans in agony each time he remembers such an occasion. There are too many to count.

Foggy is an adult, though, and besides, they've got important work stuff to discuss, so one night he decides he's done hiding. The sooner the confrontation is over, the sooner they can move on. He secretly preens at how surprised Matt is when he shows up at his hideout. Superpowers aren't everything.

« Oh, please. Did you think you were sneaky enough to get past an entire neighbourhood for years ? I- We-know a lot of people. I just thought this was a Murdock thing, not a You-Know-What thing. »

Foggy's not sure if the force with which Matt is beating the crap out of his punching bag has anything to do with his sudden appearance, but it sure turns him on. He tries really hard to stay calm so his heartbeat is be as steady as possible, but it's hard when Matt's making those grunting noises each time his fists connect with the leather ; even harder when he notices the way his sweat-soaked shirt sticks to his body.

They talk shop, for the most part. A peace offering of sorts. It's awkward and the content is depressing : Fisk and Ben's death weigh heavy on Foggy's mind, too, but at least they're talking. Even when the conversation hits a few bumps, Matt makes it very clear that Foggy's not the only one who's wishing for a new beginning. They find a kind of truce ; a tentative and fragile thing but it's better than not talking at all.

« I wasn't sure you were ever going to speak to me again, » Matt says after a pause. He picks at the bandages on his hands.

« I wasn't either. I guess we both underestimated how generous and forgiving I am. »

« I don't. I know you by heart, Foggy. »

« Literally, » Foggy adds wryly, mostly to cover up how flustered the comment makes him.

« Smartass, » Matt retorts with that annoying, adorable smirk of his. Foggy's stupid heart is doing somersaults in his chest. It could probably win a gold medal in the Olympics with the way it's bouncing all over the place. Someone with average hearing can probably hear it so it's no surprise when the smile drops from Matt's face. « Foggy. »

He has to clear his throat before he speaks and, even then, his voice breaks. « Yes ? »

« Hmm, are you alright ? Your heart is- It's beating really fast. » 

For some reason, Foggy's anger flares when he hears the worry in his friend's voice. The adrenaline does him good, loosens his tongue. « Oh, shut up, Matt. You can probably smell pheromones, you asshole. All this time, you could hear my heartbeat, hear me mutter from down the hall when I had to leave our room because I couldn't take it, couldn't take YOU being so close when I couldn't touch you. High school must have been awful with your bloodhound nose, but that's not the point, the point is- » he has to stop to take a deep breath in before he passes out, « don't insult me by pretending you have no idea how much I love you. »

« I- I'm- I- » Matt's lips keep on moving soundlessly, eyebrows going up then down then up again. He looks ridiculous. How does Foggy find this doofus attractive, again ? Ah, yes. Even when Matt's face is out of the equation, the rest of him remains quite spectacular. 

« For a lawyer, you're kind of abysmal at words. » Fogyy sighs, resigned. « The stuttering is very endearing, though. Look, it's a lot to take in stride, and it's a bit strange that the cat is officially out of the bag after so long, but it's not exactly a novelty. Please, keep in ind that my romantic feelings for you change nothing. I can ignore them if you're willing to look past them. »

« For someone who took a course in body language and wouldn't shut up about it for weeks, you're pretty abysmal at noticing I've been in love with you for years, » Matt blurts out in response.

Static fills Foggy's ears. He blinks. A lot, like his eyes are stupidly trying to process the information, or maybe kickstart his brain, which may have just short-circuited. There are pins and needles in his arms but he can't feel his legs, and his lungs seem to have stopped working. He feels slack-jawed, wide-eyed, like he’s in some kind of shock.

« Foggy ? » There's concern in Matt's voice but Foggy can barely comprehend it. It doesn't make sense.

« It's not funny. »

« It's not a joke. »

Another wave of anger washes over Foggy. « If you knew, and you loved me back, why didn't you say something ? Why are we here, years later – YEARS, Matt – with nothing to show for it ? »

« The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You didn't know. It wouldn't have been honest. » Matt's placating tone is infuriating.

« Then why didn't you tell me ?! It was the perfect opportunity ! » Foggy cries.

« We've had this conversation. I'm not too eager to revisit it so soon. »

« You- I can't believe it. All this time we could have been going on dates and feeding each other cake like those disgusting couples and making out and cuddling in front of the fireplace- »

« You don't have a fir- »

« Shut up, Murdock. I am so mad at you. So mad. Think of the hours of making out we can never make up for. Think of all the flat surfaces we'll never get to christen. Think about those, and tell me you're not an ass. »

« I couldn't start a relationship like that. Lying to my best friend was agony. Your reaction when you found out – imagine how much worse it would have been if we'd been some kind of perfect couple. »

Foggy splutters, conflicting emotions choking him. « Then WHY- »

« Can I kiss you now ? »

« You- » Foggy cuts himself off, raising an accusing finger to point at Matt and barely refrains from narrating it. Dammit, that's going to take some getting used to. « Yes, you can, yes, Jesu- »

Matt pounces on him, wrapping his arms around his back as his lips descend on Foggy's. Their first kiss is a ferocious clash of lips and teeth and noses, letting go of all the frustration their feelings have ever caused. Matt gently guides them backwards until Foggy's legs hit the boxing ring, ropes against his back. 

When Matt is done clawing at Foggy's back through his sweater and Foggy's eagerness has turned to something more tender, Foggy can actually feel the smirk on his friend's lips as he peppers his mouth with little kisses. The little shit.

« You make me so ma- Mff ! »

Matt stiffles Foggy's rebuke again, lips covering his, tongue asking entrance (it's granted, so granted) and teeth nipping at soft, red flesh. It's too pleasant to break off, but if Matt thinks he'll be able to postpone important conversations through furious making out, he's got another thing coming. Foggy won't be that easily swayed. 

He untangles his fingers from Matt's hair to grab him by the hips and maneuvres them so Matt ends up with his back to the ropes. Foggy allows himself to be a bit more aggressive, then. Matt's lips are perfect. He moans when Foggy bites them, his own fingers digging into the flesh of Foggy's shoulders.

And it's nice, really it is, but it's not what Foggy's been fantasizing about all these years. The memory of Matt's face streaked with tears as he pumped into his fist is carved in his mind's eye, everything clear as day, and that's what he yearns for. He wants to be the one to overwhelm Matt with pleasure. So he takes a risk, taking advantage of how supple making out apparently makes Matt to take hold of his hands and put them on the ropes. Now to channel his commanding bedroom voice. 

« What- »

« You can't kiss me quiet, Matt. » Matt draws himself up straighter, like Foggy's voice made him snap to attention. Foggy smirks and bites sharply at Matt's jaw, making him hiss. Matt's sweat is salty on his tongue, and Foggy feels like exploring every inch of his skin. Now's not the time, though. « I decide what happens right now. You're going to keep your hands on these ropes, Murdock, while I do the taking. » He drags his teeth along Matt's adam's apple. « Do you understand ? »

There's a marvellous symphony of Matt around Foggy : his mouth moves soundlessly, throat bared to Foggy. His stomach is heaving against his, hips hitching up of their own accord, the chords of muscle seizing as Matt gets a firmer grip on the ropes. 

« Good boy, » he murmurs with a tug to Matt's earlobe, delighted at the sharp intake of breath it earns him. The praise was supposed to be playful but hey, if it works for Matt, he's more than up for telling him all the reasons why he's lovely.

Then he's got free reign over Matt's body. It's a giddy feeling, being allowed to roam across his friend's flesh like this, slipping a hand under his shirt to caress the skin, scratching a nail around a nipple, never quite delivering. Matt comes undone as Foggy kneads, pinches, soothes, dips lower so his fingertips tease the elastic band of his shorts. His arms are shaking on the ropes. « You're doing so well, Matt. I'm so lucky to have you like this. » 

Matt whimpers. « Foggy. » The sound of his name goes straight to Foggy's dick, which started getting hard the second Matt's lips touched his, and is now more than eager to participate in the festivities, throbbing with need.

« I know, I know. I've got you, buddy. » He's got to be the one in control, but it's really hard when Matt's voice has already gone all husky, and he wants nothing more than to rut against him like a horny teenager. « I call the shots, now. » Matt whimpers again. Foggy's quite pleased.

After that, Foggy drags out his exploration even more, lifts up Matt's shirt until it's bunched up under his armpits, and traces every scar that cuckoo ninja left on his friend. His friend who happens to be a cuckoo ninja, too, when he thinks about it. Matt's muscles ripple. He grinds down on his teeth. Foggy is so proud of Matt's restraint.

« You're gorgeous like this, Matt. »

Where's the scary vigilante, now ? The coiled power is still there, sure, but Matt would never use it against him. He's lost all his words and he's panting, eyes screwed shut like he's in pain. 

It's not as sexy as Foggy had imagined it to be and he realises exactly why pretty fucking fast. « Is it too much ? » he asks with his normal voice, stepping back for good measure. Matt whines. « Is it too much ? » he asks again, more firmly.

« Yes. No. Please don't stop. » Oh, Matt begs so pretty. Alright then.

He deserves a reward for his good behaviour. Foggy puts both hands on Matt's hips to warn him he's approaching (although he probably already knows, that's definitely going to take some getting used to), and kisses him sweetly. Matt receives him with an enthusiasm that borders on desperation, like he's trying to tug Foggy closer by the mouth, fingers still tightly wrapped around the ropes. Foggy doesn't give in, though, keeping the kiss mellow and laid-back.

For his next move, he should probably check that noone's going to interrupt them. Not that showing Matt off wouldn't be arousing, God he would love that in fact, but he's already been bad enough about etiquette tonight. He doesn't need to add forced exhibitionnism to the list of his mistakes.

« Should we move this somewhere more private ? » After a few beats of silence, it becomes apparent Matt isn't cinclined to answer. « Take your time, I can stay here all night; I'm not the one with my hands locked behind me. »

This seems to bring him back to earth. His brows furrow. « N-no, we're good, » he says, voice a bit slurry. « There's noone here but us. »

« Good. That hasn't stopped being creepy, if you were wondering, but I asked for it so you get a free pass. »

« Can we- ? Foggy, please ? »

« Yeah, yeah. I'm pretty eager to get back to it myself, honestly. You can't just tell me you're in love with me and expect me not do anything about it. » He hooks his thumbs into Matt's shorts and underwear as he talks and slips them down to his ankles. Matt's erection springs up, pretty fucking majestic for something as dumb as a boner, flushed a deep red – except for the tip, which is an angry shade of purple and so, so very lickable Foggy could cry. « Do you want me to do something about this, Matt ? » he asks, so close to his shaft Matt's got to feel his breath against his skin.

He growls low in his throat. The ropes behind him creak. « How many times do I need to say it ? »

« As many times as I ask, if you want to come tonight. » And just like that, Matt is back to that pained look. Foggy kisses his cheek, a reassurance. « That's right, you behave, buddy. »

Foggy doesn't dive straight for that beautiful cock – it'd be too easy and this isn't about instant gratification. Perhaps it should have been, for their first time and after so many years of pent-up sexual frustration, but oh, well. He can't bring himself to regret anything with Matt sprawled like a mouth-watering buffet before him. So he samples all the goods. The nipples seem to be an erogenous zone for Matt, and so are the little dimples by his hips. His breathing gets heavier when Foggy rakes his nails down his back, too, and when he bites at the flesh where neck meets shoulder.

It's as Foggy gets to the main course, though, that he stops breathing altogether. One hand dips down past his belly button, follows the soft trail of hair down but never touches where Matt wants him the most, going lower and lower still, exploring the soft, hot skin before coming back up. Matt is shameless, spreads his legs as much as the clothes trapping his ankles will allow, a silent plea that Foggy just won't indulge.

When he finally puts his very fingertips just under the head of Matt's erection, Matt starts making punched-out sounds. If Foggy didn't literally have his hand on his cock, he'd think his best friend had just come.

« You're fantastic, » he purrs in Matt's ear, his other hand sinking into his hair to scratch at his scalp. And maybe pull a little. Matt hisses. « So strong for me. Do you wish you could touch me, too ? »

« Yes, » Matt sobs. 

There. This. This is what Foggy's longed to hear again for over a decade now. This beautiful, wrecked sound. He fights down a wave of arousal, his own erection twitching dangerously in his pants, and Matt must smell it or hear it in his heartbeat or something because he lets out another pitiful sob.

Foggy moves the three fingers he's got on Matt's cock, a minute thing that still tears a sound from his throat. He gives a disappointing tut when he tries to stifle it.

« I want to hear you, Matt. You can cry if you need to. It's such a beautiful sound, so hot. You don't know what it does to me, when you do that. Why do you cry, Matt ? Is it too much pleasure, is it frustration ? Is that it, is it because you want more, tell me, » he whispers.

When the first tear rolls down Matt's cheek, he has to press down on his own cock to relieve some of the pressure. He's bending down to kiss the drop away before he can catch himself but dodges Matt when he tries to catch his lips again, his fingertips all that's connected to the ropes.

« No, » he says forcefully, and Matt slides back, though he looks none too happy about it. « You need to tell me, Matt. »

« It's... everything. It's too good, but it's not enough. I want more, Foggy, touch me, » he begs. « I want your hand around me. »

« Like this ? » he asks, making a loose circle around Matt's cock that he shallowly thrusts into, keening when he realises the friction he craves is barely there. More tears escape and Foggy moves away.

« No ! No, Foggy, please ! More, Foggy, more, please, » Matt weeps.

Matt's entire body is shaking under him and Foggy is doing that. What a heady feeling. He feels so powerful. So excited, too. He indulges Matt, sort of – carresses of all of his length softly, like he's the most sensitive instrument in the world. He goes down then back up a couple of times and Matt's slit cries a few drops of precum. Matt's crying redoubles, letting go like he's finally understood Foggy's in control, and there's nothing he can do about it. 

« Go on, Matty, cry for me. Don't hold back, that's right. If you keep on being good like this I might even let you come, » Foggy says over the litany of pleas tumbling from Matt's mouth in-between sobs.

In truth, Foggy has every intention of letting Matt come tonight. He can't wait for it to happen, just to hear the sounds he is sure to make reverberate around the empty gym like it's a goddamned cathedral. God, he hopes Matt is loud when he lets himself be. He looks so glorious like this, half undressed, biting his lower lip, beautifully debauched. Foggy feels equal parts awed, aroused and fond.

There's a heat coiling low in his abdomen, a pain that needs relieving, but this isn't about him right now. Or maybe it is, but above everything else it's about Matthew Murdock's pretty sex tears. Matt, who he probably should put out of his misery. The next time his fingertips reach just under Matt's crown, Foggy lets his palm wrap around the head, feeling the spongy softness, precum making everything slicker.

Matt jumps under his hand, surprised at the sudden sensation, and weeps anew in little gasps. They're a different kind of tears, Foggy can tell : Matt's understood he is going to come. Foggy speeds up a little, fondling the head of Matt's cock more firmly, and ends the movement with a little twist that has Matt on the balls of his feet, straining for more contact.

« Yeah, Matt, you want to come ? Go ahead. You did so well, you're amazing, I never knew you could be so gorgeous. Seeing you cry for me, Matty, it just does something to me. Look at you, begging to be touched, you're about to come but you still want more, you're such a demanding little whore- »

Matt's arms fly around Foggy's neck half a second before he starts coming, a loud gasping sob ripped from his throat as spurt after spurt coats Foggy's hand and his sweater. It feels like there's no end to Matt's orgasm ; it's deliciously intimate, feeling the ripples of his climax as every one of his muscles spasms. Matt is still crying, but it's calmer now ; Foggy strokes his back as he slowly comes back down, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as Matt hides his face in Foggy's collarbone. 

When the crying is mostly over, Foggy pushes Matt back against the ropes, shushes him with a kiss when Matt whines, and wipes them both with the towel Matt had used earlier. He tidies his best friend up a bit, draws his shorts back up and his shirt back down in between sweet little caresses he can't help but dish out now that he's allowed and, when he's satisfied, kisses him softly on the lips.

Tangentially, his dick hurts like a bitch.

« You haven't- » Matt starts, motioning towards Foggy's lower half. « Do you want me to- you know ? »

« I wish I could let you do that, Matt, » Foggy starts seriously, and Matt straightens up a little. Braces himself for rejection, Foggy thinks, and it breaks his heart. « I really wish I could, but you let go of the ropes. You didn't do as I asked. So I'm going to take care of this by myself, » he says as he cups himself and moans. « It doesn't make me very happy, Matt, but you need to learn. And now you get to listen to me bring myself off, but not touch. And I'm really sorry but I'm going to have to be even firmer next time, because you've got to learn that you can't break the rules I make. »

Matt's eyes go all hooded again and Foggy's dick jumps at the sight.

It's going to be such a sweet lesson to teach, Foggy thinks as he pops the first button of his jeans.


End file.
